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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25772962">Wish</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterparkerpanic/pseuds/peterparkerpanic'>peterparkerpanic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Podfic Welcome, and all these strong ass kids, basically Lance is contacted by make a wish, inspire him to go to therapy, it's a fic about lance healing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:34:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25772962</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterparkerpanic/pseuds/peterparkerpanic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Earth would have loved Allura. If she’d been here, she would have been able to speak to huge numbers of people – inspiring them to continue living, thanking them for their support, being so genuine that everybody couldn’t help but love her.</p><p>Dios. He missed her so much.</p><p>---</p><p>Lance is struggling to get back into the groove after the end of the war. An unlikely candidate steps up, and helps in a way he'd never expected.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Allura &amp; Coran &amp; Hunk &amp; Keith &amp; Lance &amp; Pidge | Katie Holt &amp; Shiro, Allura &amp; Lance (Voltron), Coran &amp; Lance (Voltron), Hunk &amp; Lance (Voltron), Keith &amp; Lance (Voltron), Lance &amp; Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance &amp; Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wish</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello everyone!!! this is my first voltron fic, ahhh. this baby is born after almost a solid 2 months of perusing the 'langst' tag here on a03 until i ran out of fics, so i decided to write my own :)</p><p>a few notes before we begin:</p><p>-this totally ignores almost all of s8, because I didn't watch it. (I got spoiled that Allura died and couldn't put myself through that, lol.) What you need to know: the war is over, Allura is dead.</p><p>-also, this fic is short!!! although lance is portrayed to be healing, a normal healing journey isn't just one straight line. it has ups, and downs, and it's never linear. and that's normal. however, i can't portray that without bumping this baby's word count up by at least 20k, and frankly, I'm far too tired for that right now. maybe another day.</p><p>spanish translations at the bottom!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Every Tuesday, Lance meets Pidge and Hunk for coffee. It’s been a while since he’s had real coffee (multiple years in space with no substitute will do that to you, funny enough) but he finds himself savouring the bitter taste that he used to hate all those years ago. Every week, he tries to make conversation – asking Pidge about the new recruits at the Garrison, are there any stand-outs, is training going well, or questioning Hunk about how he’s always wanted to go to culinary school, and now he has all the Earth-money he would ever need – why not now?</p><p>He tries to ignore the worried looks they give him as he sips his coffee every time his smile cracks, giving himself just enough time to repair the barrier. He tries to ignore the looks they share whenever he’s off chattering about something or the other, filled with concern. He tries to ignore how they’ve stopped asking about how he’s doing after he got too choked up to talk that one time, and the group was filled with silence for the first time in years. Hunk brings him a container of baked goods every week, because he ‘needed the practice, but couldn’t eat it all’ – Lance knows it’s probably because he’s not eating right, and it shows.</p><p>He thinks about Allura a lot. Lance doesn’t have a ton of regrets, but one of his largest ones is never recording her. Sure, there are photographs – film of when they’ve talked, with various members of the Coalition – videos of whatever publicity stunts they did when Coran was half-possessed. But he regrets not having physical evidence of the smile that bloomed the first time he cracked a joke that made her laugh. The determination that he only got to see a handful of times, when she was in a situation she couldn’t escape, and her mind started running for a solution it always reached.</p><p>He used to believe regrets weren’t worth it. Now, he has too many to follow his mantra.</p><p>This Tuesday in particular, it is the three-month anniversary since they returned to Earth. If Lance were to check his email, he’d see that Shiro organised a party for the entirety of the Atlas crew in celebration – Hunk and Pidge had already RSVP’d. But Lance can’t go. Not without Allura.</p><p>They’re talking about it, though. Hunk’s stressing over whether it’s the type of party you bring gifts too (usually people bring wine – Hunk will probably end up baking brownies) and Pidge is wondering whether they should wear a green shirt with their suit, or just a green tie, because the entire shirt would be overkill.</p><p>“What about you, Lance?” They asked, head resting on their palm as they lazily swirled their mug of coffee. “You gonna wear a tie?”</p><p>“What if it isn’t even a tie-wearing event?” Hunk asked. “Like, what if we show up in suits, and everyone else is in a jeans-and-shirt type of situation? Did Shiro specify a dress code? Pidge? Can you ask your Dad?”</p><p>“It’ll be fine,” Pidge groaned. “Anyway, I think wearing a tie all night will suck. Maybe I’ll just go with green shoes.”</p><p>They looked up at Lance, who was fidgeting with his mug, long fingers tapping against the china. “Lance?” They asked, dipping their head to meet his gaze. “What are you wearing?”</p><p>“I don’t know if I’ll go,” said Lance honestly, swallowing the emotion he wanted to put into his voice. “I mean – I’m not really one for parties.”</p><p>“Really?” Hunk asked, raising an eyebrow. “This is coming from Loverboy Lance, party-extraordinaire-“</p><p>“I’m kinda tired,” he said, placing a hand to the back of his neck and trying not to wince at how cold his fingers were. “Maybe I’ll catch the next one, yeah?”</p><p>Pidge frowned. “You know… we could always skip it. Have a movie night – like we used to in the Castle. I have access to more than four movies now, so that’s cool.”</p><p>“No,” Lance found himself shaking his head before he processed more than the words ‘skip.’ “You guys go. I’ll be fine – seriously. I’ll catch the next one.”</p><p>He looked up at them, smiling to the best of his ability. Pidge studied him for a moment longer, letting out a sigh.</p><p>“If you’re sure,” Hunk said. “You’d better get some good sleep then.”</p><p>Pidge laughed softly. “Yeah – we’ll be up all-night partying. One of us needs to get a good night’s rest.”</p><p>With that, they launched into their story of who was doing what at the Garrison, and how weird it was working alongside <em>Iverson, </em>of all people. Lance tuned it out. He didn’t mean to, he just… did.</p><p>Instead of Pidge’s voice, all he could hear was a dull ringing. His fingers tapped across the wooden table – nothing. Hunk laughed at Pidge’s words, responding – nothing.</p><p>“Lance?” Allura’s clear tone cut through his thoughts, and his eyes widened, looking around. The ringing stopped.</p><p>“Lance?” Hunk asked again. “Pidge was asking you about whether you’d heard from Keith.”</p><p>“Oh,” Lance forced a smile. “Yeah, actually – he says he’s doing fine. Apparently the Mot’lavi beds are much better than ours.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Everybody around him, it seemed, settled back into day-to-day life easily. It was all so sudden – one week, he was hotwired into constantly thinking about when the next Galra attack would be, and the next, his biggest worry was whether he’d have to go and get groceries because he was running out.</p><p>Hunk had said therapy had helped the adjustment (and Shiro had backed that up.) But Lance hadn’t yet been – people had reached out, sure. But the furthest he’d ever gotten was standing outside a block of offices that was surprisingly still standing after all the fighting, looking up to try and guess which room he’d be having therapy in.</p><p>Spoiler alert; none. He went all the way back home.</p><p>His phone (Quiznack! He never thought he wouldn’t want a phone again, but it was a hard adjustment after learning to live without one) seemed to beep non-stop – texts from everybody he’d ever known, to people checking up on him, to his family bombarding him. Obviously, he was grateful for the last two – it was nice to be appreciated – but it was all a bit… much.</p><p>A week after he’d returned to Earth, he’d bought himself an apartment in the suburbs (somewhere the Galra never decimated.) It was quiet, which was so unnatural, but it was his. He barely lived there, anyway – his Mamá insisted he ate and slept with his family. It was just an escape, if he needed it.</p><p>On that Tuesday night, he needed it. Curled up on a leather sofa (the only furniture in the room) and watching sitcom reruns from deca-phoebs ago, he opened his phone for the first time in a few days.</p><p>Texts first – too many to count. If he could find enough motivation, he’d go to some store and get another. Right now he settled with muting the app, and hoping that if it was something important, they would be able to reach out in person.</p><p>Second; social media. His old accounts hadn’t been updated since before he left, but on the recent posts, people had taken to commenting their support and love for him and his work. He browsed the multiple drawings and posts dedicated to him, feeling something akin to guilt whenever it made him happy.</p><p>They loved him… and they never got to meet her. Earth would have loved Allura. If she’d been here, she would have been able to speak to huge numbers of people – inspiring them to continue living, thanking them for their support, being so genuine that everybody couldn’t help but love her.</p><p><em>Dios. </em>He missed her so much.</p><p>Lance always checked his email last, because he’d had one set up for ‘business’ (he wasn’t really sure what business meant – after they’d all been given such a generous amount of money for ‘saving the universe’, he didn’t really have to partake in business every again.) This was how the rest of Voltron contacted him – Keith and Coran from somewhere in Outer Space, liberating countries and speaking on behalf of Voltron, and everyone else from wherever they were on Earth. Now and again, an offer would come through – a ‘please speak at our high school’, or ‘do a TedTalk’ (he’d liked that idea for a while before he remembered he was the least literate member of Voltron, and would definitely screw it up.)</p><p>Today, there was a new email. From Make A Wish.</p><p>“Dear Red Paladin,” the preview read, “my name is Katherine. I am writing today to…”</p><p>He clicked; he couldn’t help it. Make A Wish still existed?</p><p>He read it again. And again. And again. He even considered screenshotting it, to send to Hunk, so his best friend could check if it was real.</p><p>They wanted him to visit a hospital full of children.</p><p>They wanted <em>him? </em>The paladin that was, ultimately, useless? That had started caring for someone, and then had let her die?</p><p>Most likely, they’d wanted somebody else – but all the other Paladins had no problems getting on with their lives. They were all too busy now, and he was all that was left. Yeah.</p><p>But, they still wanted him. And… children? Had they known Lance had a soft spot for children?</p><p>He clicked the response button, typing, “I would love to. What time?” and sending it before he could regret it.</p><p>He wasn’t going to regret it. These kids – if they looked up to him, he was going to do a good job.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The 22<sup>nd</sup> came far too early. He’d been corresponding with Katherine (and, he found out, a whole team of people – not all human – that volunteered and worked with the organisation) and she’d arranged for a ride for him in the morning, and a ride back, at the end of the day.</p><p>He’d eaten breakfast with his Mamá and Rachel. Whilst Lance had slumped, his siblings were off doing various work around the word – important work. He barely saw them if they even lived at home anymore. Breakfast with Rachel was a rarity. A gift.</p><p>“The make a wish thing is today,” he said whilst he was pushing pieces of scrambled egg around his plate with his fork, a ball of dread filling his stomach too much to eat. “They’ll come and get me in an hour or two.”</p><p>“Oh,” Rachel said, looking up from her phone. “Already?”</p><p>Lance nodded. His scrambled eggs got pushed more around the plate.</p><p>“Well, what are you going to wear?”</p><p>Lance shrugged. “My Paladin armour, probably? They want me because they think I’m a hero.”</p><p>“You are a hero,<em> hijo,” </em>his Mamá said, placing a hand on his arm and rubbing softly. “You were so brave. The children will love you.”</p><p>“¿<em>Realmente lo crees</em>?” He asked, looking up. She nodded.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“<em>Diviértete hoy</em>.” She said, an hour later as she was kissing his cheek, on his way out. <em>“¡Los niños te amarán!”</em></p><p>“<em>Gracias</em>, Mamá,” he smiled. “<em>Hasta luego</em>.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Great!” Kathrine said as he stepped out of the taxi. “You’re already in your armour! We had a costume made, just in case. It’s great to finally meet you in person, by the way.”</p><p>“You, too,” Lance said, accepting the firm handshake and trying to mirror Katherine’s overly cheery smile.</p><p>“Alright, so we’ve already gone over it, but today we’ll be going room to room – just to have a few conversations with the kids. You’ll never be alone with them – a member of our team will accompany you. We’ll break for lunch, which you can also have with the kids, and then after you’ve visited all the rooms, we were thinking you could do a big group talk, where all the kids who can will come to one of the larger rooms. Maybe tell a few adventure stories, get the morale up.”</p><p>Through it all, Lance nodded. He’d been briefed on all of this before, and now her words were turning into sandpaper as they passed through his ears. <em>Allura. She would have known how to handle this.</em></p><p>“Let’s get started then!” She clapped energetically, and the rest of the ‘team’ materialised around him.</p><p>Katherine led the way through the hospital, up to the fourth floor – and Lance took the opportunity to take out his phone, texting Pidge.</p><p>
  <em>[Sorry, I can’t make it for coffee today. Busy.]</em>
</p><p>Their reply was instantaneous.</p><p>
  <strong>[Are you okay?]</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>[Fine. Something came up.] </em>
</p><p>And then after a while,</p><p>
  <em>[I am ok. Promise.]</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>[Alright. No skipping out on us again though, ok?]</strong>
</p><p>Katherine cleared her throat, and Lance blinked up to see that he was standing in an empty elevator on the fourth floor. “Right,” he said, pocketing his phone. “Sorry.”</p><p>“Lance,” Katherine said as he stepped out, the doors creaking shut behind him. “I know we’ve spoken about it before, but are you sure you’re ok to be with a group of children? You have to treat them a certain way, and no war-stories – censor your words, and all that. Are you really up for it?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” Lance said. “Really. Before… all of this, I was great with kids. Used to babysit my niece and nephew all the time.”</p><p>“Great!” She said. “But… don’t say that to the kids. They want to hear adventure stories.”</p><p>They arrived at the first door. “Okay, this little boy is called Kova. He’s six.”</p><p>With a nod, Lance knocked on the door, sliding it open. “Kova?” He asked softly, peeking into the room. “My name’s Lance. Is it alright if I come in?”</p><p>“Paladin Lance?” A young voice asked. Lance stepped into the room to see the young boy – deep skin gaunt, sunken into his little figure. Where there should have been hair, his head shone with perspiration, bare. “Oh my <em>Quiznack!”</em></p><p>Lance chuckled, closing the door behind him. “Where’d you hear that word?”</p><p>“From your TV show! I watched all the episodes,” he boasted. “You’re my favourite character! Well… you and Keith, because he’s cool with a sword, like a jedi. But you can shoot guns!”</p><p>“I can,” Lance moved forwards. “Do you mind if I sit?”</p><p>Kova nodded enthusiastically. “I also watched this video that came in after the war ended, of a show you guys did! Where Keith was a <em>girl! </em>That was so weird!” He laughed.</p><p>Looking at this kid – this <em>child </em>– Lance was all at once struck with the innocence that shone in his eyes. To this little boy, Lance was a hero; not a child soldier that was forced to grow up through years of saving the universe from a tyrant’s grasp. He wasn’t just a broken boy in a man’s body, mourning something he’d barely had. Kova looked up to him.</p><p>“It was weird, wasn’t it?” Lance let himself chuckle a little at the memory. “Did you like the show?”</p><p>“Yeah!” Kova exclaimed, to the amusement of the nurse in the room. “It was all – pew pew! Take down the bad guys! Loverboy Lance was the <em>best!”</em></p><p>“I’m glad you think so,” he said. “Hey, Kova – how do you feel about taking a photo with me?”</p><p>Kova’s eyes widened into saucers, and Lance swore he could see one of the many galaxies in there. “Really? You know my name? And you want to take a photo with me?”</p><p>“I do!” Lance chuckled. “I want to remember this day – meeting the coolest kid in the universe. What do you say?”</p><p>The boy nodded and a moment later, phones were drawn out for a photo. Lance posed, offering his best grin (he was good at posing for photos – back when he’d been on Earth, he’d had time to learn his best angles – and well, when they did have free time in space, they had it in large enough bouts that he’d often take to the mirror, practicing for whatever alien species they saw next.)</p><p>“Wait,” Lance said when the photos had been taken, “do you mind if I take one, too?” He pulled a polaroid camera from his bag – a beat up little thing, that was once as blue as his armour but had now had almost all the paint scratched off. “That thing went with me through space.”</p><p>Instead of Kova admiring the object, like Lance had expected, he scrunched his nose. “It’s so old!” He said.</p><p>Lance chuckled slightly at that. “Well, it was the only thing I could find at a space-mall – and it’s served me well?”</p><p>“They have malls in space?”</p><p>“Sure do, buddy. Now say, ‘cheese!’”</p><p>Lance lifted the camera, taking a selfie of him and Kova, who’s jaw was half open, half pulling into a smile. He took the photo as it came out, waving it through the air. “Thank you, buddy. You know, I bet you’d be a pretty good hero.”</p><p>“Really?” Kova grinned. “Me, too! My Mom said it’s too dangerous though – they don’t have the stuff to help the sickness in my blood in space. But I said I wanted to go anyway! Heroes don’t get sick! So I’ll be a hero when I’m better!”</p><p>A glance to Katherine let Lance know that was pretty unlikely. Already, Kova’s movements were getting somewhat sluggish – raw excitement too much exertion for the moment. “You know,” Lance said, instead of confirming Kova’s words, “heroes do get sick.”</p><p>“Really?” Kova’s eyebrows drew together. “But – but they have to save the world!”</p><p>“They can’t be perfect <em>all </em>the time,” said Lance. “Sometimes even heroes need a break. They gotta focus on getting better, so they can go out and be heroes again!”</p><p>Kova nodded, although the crease between his eyebrows didn’t leave. “So… you were sick in space?”</p><p>“Sometimes,” Lance nodded. “This one time – we were on a mission, on this planet that had a <em>purple </em>sky – and I got hit in the face with this plant, and was sick for like, a week! But I focussed on healing up, and then when I was all better, I was extra badass!”</p><p>“Badass?” Kova asked, beginning to giggle. “Isn’t that a bad word?”</p><p>“I – I meant I was more heroic!” He said. “Heroes don’t use bad words.”</p><p>“But you’re a hero,” Kova said.</p><p>Lance shrugged. “I was,” he said. “But now… I’m just normal.”</p><p>“No!” Kova protested loudly. “You <em>are </em>a hero! You saved the whole universe! And that means that you saved me!”</p><p>“I – I guess I never thought of it like that-“</p><p>“And,” Kova continued after gulping what he deemed sufficient air in, “you’re like, the coolest Pala- Paladin ever! I want to be just like you when I grow up!”</p><p>Lance blinked at that, tracing Kova’s face for any signs he might be lying. A young, adoring grin looked back up at him. “You’re gonna be the best hero ever,” Lance said softly, placing a hand on Kova’s shoulder. It was – it was so thin, under the hospital gown he was wearing. Kova didn’t have a scrap of extra fat on his body. It made Lance’s heart awaken in his chest with ache.</p><p>Katherine cleared her throat from the back of the room. “We’re on a tight schedule, I’m afraid,” She said. “Lance has to say hey to every kid in the hospital.”</p><p>“Oh,” Kova said, face drooping so suddenly it was as if Lance had imagined the awe a moment ago. “Ok.”</p><p>“But,” Katherine continued, “at the end of the day, we’re all meeting up to do a talk with Lance in the cafeteria! Maybe you could come to that.”</p><p>“Okay!” Kova nodded.</p><p>“Say thank you,” the nurse prompted, a soft smile on her face.</p><p>“Thank you for visiting, Paladin Lance.”</p><p>“It was my pleasure,” Lance answered honestly. “Hey, Kova – can I get a hug before I go?”</p><p>The little boy practically jumped onto Lance’s lap, all four limbs wrapping around his torso in a death grip. After a second, Lance hugged back, stroking Kova’s back comfortingly.</p><p>“Thank you, buddy,” he whispered into Kova’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The entire day was so much of the same it sent Lance’s head reeling. He’d go in each room, knowing what to expect and yet having to visibly hide his reaction as he met face after face. Four kids in, he’d began writing their names onto the bottom of every polaroid he collected. He didn’t want to forget them.</p><p>Every single one of them had a story about how Lance was a hero – how they’d seen him on TV, so he <em>had </em>to be good. Every time he heard one, he teared up.</p><p>“Alright!” Katherine clapped her hands. “We break for lunch. You can leave, of course, but I’ve been told the food here is very good. We have an hour.”</p><p>Lance followed the crew down to the cafeteria, buying a tray of food and sitting down. His bag felt heavy with the weight of a thousand photos. He wanted to get them out – to look at each of those kid’s smiling faces.</p><p>“It’s always hard, the work we do,” Katherine said, breaking the table’s silence. “But you have to remember – no matter how sad you feel, you just made that kid the happiest they’ve ever been. You work through it.”</p><p>Lance nodded. “They – I’m glad I’m doing this,” he confessed. “I kind of… wasn’t doing anything, after we got back to Earth.”</p><p>“If anyone deserves a break, it’s you,” one of the team members – an alien species he’d seen before, but couldn’t name (big horns, coarse yellow fur) joked. They had three clawed fingers, and seemed to be struggling with the concept of a spoon.</p><p>Lance frowned slightly. “I’m just so used to being active,” he confessed. “I feel like… every second, I need to be ready for some attack. And then I get tired, but I feel bad for sleeping – coz I’ve done nothing all day, you know?”</p><p>“Have you considered therapy?” Another person asked – human. “It’s not really my place, but it sounds like it might help. Sure as hell helped the rest of us.”</p><p>A chorus of agreements went around the table.</p><p>“It was offered,” Lance admitted, “to all the Paladins, when we got back.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you take it?”</p><p>He shrugged. “I’m supposed to be a hero. I don’t want people to start thinking I’m weak, I guess.”</p><p>“Did any of the other Paladins get therapy?” Katherine asked.</p><p>Lance nodded – to his knowledge, everybody else (save for Keith – that emo didn’t even <em>come </em>back to Earth, he was so busy continuing to fly around space) got therapy. Hunk had stopped after a couple of months, but Pidge and Shiro still go.</p><p>“And do you think they’re any less of heroes?”</p><p>“No, of course not,” Lance said, the protest leaving his lips before he fully processed the thought. “They’re… no.”</p><p>“Then why wouldn’t you be the same?”</p><p>Lance sighed, looking down to his food. “You guys are too good at this,” he said, eliciting a few light chuckles.</p><p>“You know,” Katherine said again, “I know the numbers to a couple of therapists. Kind of comes with the territory of the job. I could give them to you, if you want?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, voice coming out slightly hoarse. “That’d be nice.”</p><p>The alien with yellow fur patted his back, hard, and Lance coughed, before beginning to chuckle. “Ouch,” he said, a hand rubbing at his shoulder.</p><p>“Sorry,” the alien said. “I assumed – since you were in armour-“</p><p>“Just kidding,” Lance said with a wink. “I’m tough as hell.”</p><p>“Yeah,” another member of the team said. Lance felt his cheeks heat at the casual tone – so he bowed his head, eating some more.</p><p>Maybe… maybe they were right.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Alright, my name is Lance McClain, AKA Loverboy Lance, and I am hereby accepting questions!”</p><p>The afternoon went smoothly – word had got out that a Paladin of Voltron was visiting the hospital, and patients from the other floors had come to watch. At first, the questions had been ridiculous (What was the biggest planet you saw? Did you get to punch Zarkon in the face?) but they slowly mellowed out (What was your favourite mission? What did you do on your birthdays in space?) It was like Lance had blinked, and the day had passed – the team were excusing themselves, and Lance, after posing for more photos, was bowing as they applauded him, waving his goodbyes.</p><p>The team had offered him a ride back to his home – so Lance was sitting in the back of a car, fiddling with his phone as he tried to sort through the different thoughts in his head. He’d forgotten how good it had felt just being around people, like that. Lance did best when he was around others – how had that slipped his mind?</p><p>The phone buzzed in his hand, interrupting his train of thought (that he <em>really </em>needed to download some games on this thing, because journeys like this were boring as hell.) The screen read ‘Shiro.’</p><p>Wow. Shiro barely ever texted Lance – and when he did, it was just to check in. Lance unlocked the phone, clicking on the notification.</p><p>
  <strong>[Hey, Lance. Are you okay? Pidge texted me earlier.]</strong>
</p><p>Oh. He’d forgotten about his lack-of-excuse for missing coffee that morning.</p><p>
  <em>[All good. I just had some other plans.]</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>[Ok.]</strong>
</p><p>Before Lance could turn off the phone, it dinged again.</p><p>
  <strong>[We missed you at that party last week.]</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>[Sorry.]</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>[It’s fine. Are you sure you’re ok?]</strong>
</p><p>Lance smiled. For once, he felt like he could answer honestly.</p><p>
  <em>[I will be.]</em>
</p><p>After a moment of deliberation, he sent another text.</p><p>
  <em>[I’ll come to the next party, yeah?]</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>[I’ll take your word for it.]</strong>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Lance?” Hunk’s voice filtered through the phone line, deep and groggy with sleep. “You okay, buddy?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Lance said. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was late.”</p><p>“No, man – I’m always happy to hear from you.” Hunk cleared his throat. “What’s up?”</p><p>“Actually, I was –“ Lance sighed, staring down at his lap. He’d emptied his bag of its contents, and all the photos had come spilling out. Apparently, he’d spent longer than he thought mulling over each one – long enough that it had become a respectable time to sleep. “Never mind. It can wait.”</p><p>“No, no,” shuffling through the line, “I’m always glad to get your call. What do you need?”</p><p>“I was wondering if – if you could come over?” He hated how small his voice sounded. Lance had honestly thought he was all cried out for the night.</p><p>“Of course,” Hunk said. “You at home?”</p><p>“At the apartment.”</p><p>“On my way.”</p><p>Hunk came quickly – in his plaid trousers and fuzzy slippers, holding a container of garlic knots that he claimed ‘needed to be microwaved’, as if they weren’t still delicious whilst cold. He sat with Lance as he talked about his day – first about the kids, and then about the conversation at lunch. He listened, as Lance poured himself out, letting all the feelings loose, to fly out through his window and into the night sky. He provided a comfort Lance couldn’t remember feeling.</p><p>And then they’d ate garlic knots, and arranged the polaroids onto one of Lance’s many empty walls, and tried not to yawn even though the sun was close to coming up. The sleep that had evaporated from Hunk’s voice as he first picked up the phone had slowly seeped back in – until, as they stood, just two boys, a couch, an empty apartment, and a wall of polaroid photos remained – he couldn’t hold back his yawns.</p><p>“Sorry,” Lance said. “I kept you up.”</p><p>Hunk shook his head. “It was worth it, man. You’re my best friend – you know that, right?”</p><p>He nodded. “I… thank you.”</p><p>Hunk was already wrapping him up in a hug, even though Lance was still in the armour’s under-suit, and probably smelt less-than-ideal. “Any time. And I mean it.”</p><p>They pulled apart after a long while – not long enough, in Lance’s opinion. “We should have saved coffee for this morning,” Lance chuckled lightly, “you know, since we haven’t slept.”</p><p>“Why don’t we go out?” Hunk asked. “I’m sure Pidge would want to.”</p><p>“But you – school.” Lance stammered. “Aren’t you busy?”</p><p>“I can afford to miss one class,” Hunk said. “And you’re way more important to me.”</p><p>He got out his phone, sending out a text, and received a ‘ping’ back almost instantaneously. “Pidge is in,” he said. “I should probably shower, and change – but I’ll pick you back up in an hour?”</p><p>With a nod, Hunk was gone.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He’d never taken to speaking to Allura, after she’d gone – he’d see her, or at least reminders of her, in everything he did – but when her face flew up behind his eyes, he’d never spoken words further than whispered apologies in-amongst tears. Today, though, he could practically feel her presence.</p><p>Lance barely managed to drag himself into the shower – and when he was out, and dressed, he still had forty minutes before Hunk would return and they would go for the coffee they missed. He took the time to sit back in front of his newly finished wall.</p><p>“Allura,” he said, tongue heavy in his mouth. “I miss you.”</p><p>His eyes traced the faces of the children – each grinning so widely, so carefree. “I wish you were here. Yesterday was amazing. The kids – the kids would have loved you. Because you’re two paladins, you know? You’re stand-in Keith, and Allura blue. And you’re Altean.” He chuckled to himself. “I must be crazy. I’m talking to a wall right now.”</p><p>Lance lay back on the wooden floor, looking at the white paint of his ceiling. “I miss you every day,” he repeated. “I see you everywhere; the colour blue kind of follows me. But it reminds me of you.”</p><p>He sighed. “I know what you’d say – some stupid spiel about how I was wasting my time, and I should be doing something. But I’m – I’m trying my best, yeah?”</p><p>His voice trailed off into nothingness for a while. He felt like closing his eyes.</p><p>“Hunk came over last night. We had a sleepover, but didn’t sleep – just like old times! Man, I miss the sleepovers on the Castle of Lions. I hated it then – we only had four movies to pick from, and one of them was <em>Sharknado </em>– thanks, Mullet – but I always liked Hunk’s cookies and Coran’s bedtime stories. Oh, and when we plaited each other’s hair, and Coran ended up with a plaited moustache!”</p><p>Lance paused, registering the lift of his cheeks. “I feel like I shouldn’t be smiling, Allura,” he confessed. “You’re… not here. It feels like I’m… I don’t know, disrespecting your memory. Or something like that.”</p><p>He stretched his arms over his head, before tucking one underneath his neck, to act as a pillow. “I want to feel better,” he admitted, softly. “I’m just scared that if I try, and it doesn’t work… then what?”</p><p>With a shaky sigh, he pushed himself up, looking at the photos again. “Maybe I should have stayed in space,” he said with a chuckle. “Much easier. No time for feelings.”</p><p>“Anyway,” he continued, “Hunk should be here pretty soon. I don’t know what Alteans believe in, but if you’re in heaven – I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this, because you’ve seen it all happening.” He smiled. “Maybe you could… keep an eye out, up there? For me?”</p><p>A knock on the door had Lance standing, reaching for his phone. “That’s Hunk,” he said. “He probably says hey… you know, metaphorically.” Lance cleared his throat. “I should go. I love you, Allura.”</p><p>With a sigh, he opened his door, ready to face the rest of the world again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I’ll order the coffee’s,” Hunk had said, leaving Lance with a very-obviously-stewing Pidge. They didn’t say anything as they sat at their normal table – but the moment they took their seats, Pidge spoke.</p><p>“You worried me, you dumbass,” Pidge frowned. Lance didn’t like to see Pidge frowning – they suited a smile so much better.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Lance said – and then, when the frown deepened, “I was actually busy.”</p><p>“Like hell you were.” Pidge crossed their arms. “Look, Lance – I’ve been there, but I would prefer it if you’d tell the truth, so I can <em>help-“</em></p><p>“But I really was busy!” Lance defended. “These… people reached out to me. Y’know, Voltron stuff.”</p><p>Pidge snorted as if they didn’t believe Lance, but the frown dissipated. “You should warn us in advance next time. I was so worried one of my students noticed and they pestered me all day about it. Teenagers are annoying – but <em>nosey </em>teenagers are a whole other level.”</p><p>Lance was chuckling as Hunk came back, three coffees in his hands. “What’s funny?” He asked, setting the drinks down and sliding into his seat. “You two were glaring a couple minutes ago.”</p><p>“Oh, nothing,” Pidge said. “So, Lance. What was so important that you skipped coffee morning for it?”</p><p>Lance launched into a tale of the events, from the kids, to the lunch conversation, to the Hunk coming over (he was ready to explain that, when Hunk jumped in with an “Actually, Pidge already knows… I’m really bad at keeping secrets.”) and them putting up the photos and having a long talk (Pidge was annoyed at that – said if Hunk got to sleep over, they should be invited, too – for a ‘Garrison Trio’ reunion.)</p><p>After he was finished, coffee’s either finished or cold, Pidge had launched into their own experience with therapy – how much it had helped, how much it continued to help, and how supportive they were of Lance no matter what decision he decided to make. Hunk also talked about his brief journey; he’d walked out six weeks later with a new outlook on things, and a flurry of coping mechanisms (Hunk had explained that having therapy over an extended period of time wasn’t bad – they’d given him a totally different style of therapy, because his brain ticked differently than Pidge’s and Shiro’s did, and it would be more effective.) Both of them had been reluctant to leave – and, when they finally did pack up (somewhere close to lunch time, which meant Hunk had missed <em>another </em>class and Pidge would probably be late for work), they hugged him so tightly that he’d had all the air squeezed out of him (which probably wasn’t supposed to feel as nice as it did.) Lance walked out, for the first time, smiling.</p><p><em>Smiling. </em>What a weird thing that was.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Almost a phoeb later, Lance got a written invite to another party Shiro was throwing (more of a ‘dinner’, really) to celebrate Keith’s brief return to Earth. Lance did what he’d begun to always do with these kinds of things – call his therapist, and have a long conversation with her to discuss the pros and the cons (and the feelings, which he didn’t like to outright just say, because it sounded sappy.) After a phone call with Pidge, who had become his go-to hype person, convincing him that they would not leave his side the entire night, and Hunk would probably do the same, Lance sent a text, letting Shiro know he’d be there.</p><p>Except, the night came, and Lance got into a smart shirt, and couldn’t leave the house.</p><p>“Hey, Allura,” he said, coming to sit on the floor in front of the wall of polaroid’s – a position he’d gotten unsurprisingly used to. “How are you today? I’m… alright, I guess. Kind of anxious, kind of tired. The usual – am I right?”</p><p>He laughed breathlessly to himself, before his features settled. “I miss Shiro, and Keith, and Adam, of course; but is it bad that I really don’t want to see them? Not… not today, at least.”</p><p>Shrugging, Lance lay on the floor so that his head was next to the wall, fingers reaching up to toy with one of the photograph’s edges. “I want to see them as well, though,” he continued. “But… I know I’ll be happy to see them, and that doesn’t feel… right, I guess? Because, it’s an Atlas and Voltron crew reunion. And you won’t be there.”</p><p>“And,” he pushed on, “I’m supposed to be happy, right? Like, ‘Loverboy Lance’ and all that stuff. I don’t know if I can do that for however long this dinner party will last.”</p><p>Lance groaned. “I shouldn’t be complaining to you – I mean, I got a therapist for this. But… I really miss you, Allura. I wish you could be there with me.”</p><p>He took a deep breath, pulling himself with great effort to stand. “It’s whatever,” he said, plastering on a smile. “I have to go; I promised. And Pidge will hunt me down if I don’t go.”</p><p>One last look at the photo wall – one last, “Bye, Allura,” whispered into the paint – and he left.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Lance showed up outside Shiro’s house (which was really more of a mansion – being paid a crap ton by the government tended to do that) – feeling just about as sceptical as he’d been feeling since he got the damn invite.</p><p>                <em>[I’m here], </em>he texted Hunk.</p><p>                <strong>[Me too, buddy! I don’t see you though.]</strong></p><p>
  
  <em>[Yeah, I’m still in my car, haha.]</em>
</p><p>
  
  <strong>[Oh.]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>                [Want me to walk in with you?]</strong>
</p><p>Lance paused.</p><p>                <em>[That would be nice. Thank you.]</em></p><p>
  
  <strong>[Anytime, Lance. Anytime.]</strong>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The party was loud. Lance had never been to a proper dinner party before – he was a teenager when he left Earth, so house parties and homecoming were his version of experience, and the Coalition dinners he’d experienced after weren’t really what he considered a ‘party’, either. There was that party the Arusians had, though – that had been fun. If not for the fact that the castle exploded soon after.</p><p>Hunk, bless his heart, came to Lance’s window and coaxed him out of the car, holding his shoulder in a warm grip all the way up until they knocked on the door. Lance took a deep breath, smiling, expecting to see Shiro.</p><p>Instead… Nyma opened the door.</p><p>“Lance!” She exclaimed, wrapping him up in a hug that was far too warm. Hunk’s hand retreated. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”</p><p>“I did,” he said, smiling. Nyma pulled away. “It’s good to see you.”</p><p>“You too,” she said honestly, eyes glowing (although he was pretty sure they just… did that.) “Come in, come in! Everyone’s socialising – dinner’s in an hour.”</p><p>She ushered them in, and Lance’s hands found the back of Hunk’s blazer, holding on and squeezing tightly. Hunk must have felt the resistance – he didn’t leave Lance’s side, even as Nyma continued to chatter on. “What have you been up to?” She asked. “It must be such a change of pace – I’ve been on Earth for a couple hours, and I’m so <em>relaxed. </em>Maybe it’s because I know I can trust you guys!”</p><p>“Oh, you know,” Lance chuckled. “This and that. Taking a bit of a break – catching up with my family, and all that. Whatever you’ve been doing in space must be <em>way </em>more interesting, though.”</p><p>Nyma laughed, taking the bait and launching into a spiel of what her and Rolo (and their whole rebel team) had been up to these past few phoebs. Lance tuned most of it out – it was all ‘hero’ this, ‘useful’ that – the saving the universe mumbo-jumbo he used to be able to spill in the same way.</p><p>“Man, I am so parched,” Hunk interrupted after two solid doboshes of Nyma talking. “I’m going to go get a drink – Lance, you coming?”</p><p>Lance nodded – calling out a “catch you later!” as they disappeared into the crowd. Hunk navigated it like a pro – polite smiles and waves to people they worked with, but didn’t necessarily remember the names of. Then again, Hunk was the one that had been in Shiro’s house before. Lance would probably know his way around too, if he wasn’t so pathetic.</p><p>They emerged at the table, and Hunk immediately began pouring drinks for both Lance and himself. Lance was all at once thrown back to how he used to do the same in the Garrison after-hours parties, when Lance had wanted alcohol but Hunk knew a good enough mocktail would both keep him satisfied and protect them from the nasty hangovers every other student had walking into class the next morning.</p><p>He missed that. He missed a lot of stuff.</p><p>“Lance!” A familiar, deep voice called, and Lance found himself turning to see Shiro, in all his glory.</p><p>“Shiro!” Lance responded, as the man made his way over. “Man, can you tear up a suit.”</p><p>Shiro chuckled, pulling Lance into a hug. Lance’s arms settled onto Shiro’s shoulders, and he felt himself relax at the familiarity of it all. Shiro had always been huge, and Lance had often taken comfort in the idea that the older man was literally a wall of muscle. He could place his safety – and his trust – in him.</p><p>All too soon, the hug was over, and Shiro was pulling back to say, “it’s been too long!”</p><p>Lance grinned. “It has! I’ve really missed our Space Dad!”</p><p>Shiro’s cheeks heated, and he turned slightly. “I take it you know Adam?”</p><p>Lance and Adam (who was now snorting at his husband being a ‘space dad’) exchanged a half-nod. “We do,” Adam chuckled. “I like to know my in-laws.”</p><p>Shiro elbowed his husband. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat, turning back to Lance and Hunk. “When did you get here?”</p><p>“Oh, just now. We ran into Nyma, actually.”</p><p>“Nice, nice,” Shiro nodded. “Always good running into old friends.”</p><p>“Right?” Hunk chuckled softly. “Nostalgia, and all that.”</p><p>Shiro grinned with understanding, and they fell into silence amidst the room’s chatter. Lance’s eyes traced as Adam reached out for Shiro’s hand naturally, and Shiro took it. His eyes began to mist up.</p><p>“Have you seen Keith?” Shiro said. “He’s hanging out in the corner somewhere. You know, doing… Keith-stuff.”</p><p>“You mean totally avoiding social situations?” Hunk joked. Shiro chuckled softly.</p><p>“We haven’t actually.” Lance said. “We should go say hey.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Shiro said. “I’ll see you guys at dinner, then?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Lance nodded. “Hunk?”</p><p>“Coming, buddy,” Hunk said, picking up the two drinks and handing one to Lance. They made their way through the crowd, which, as they moved past the front door, thinned notably, until spotting a familiar mullet on one of the couches, scrolling through his phone.</p><p>“Mullet!” Lance called, smiling as Keith’s head whipped to the left. “Jeez, you’d think they’d at least have some decent hairdressers in space.”</p><p>“Lance! Hunk!” Keith stood, pocketing his phone and opening his arms as Lance continued to walk towards him. Lance sunk into Keith’s arms with familiarity, squeezing Keith a little too tightly.</p><p>Keith attempted to crush his ribs in response.</p><p>Lance let go, watching as Keith gave Hunk an equally crushing hug, before he moved back. His hair was long enough at the front that every few seconds, he would swipe a piece out of his eyes – but other than that, he hadn’t changed, much. Lance had always prided himself on the few inches he managed to hold over Keith – he was glad those were still intact.</p><p>“How are you, man?” Lance asked.</p><p>“Great.”</p><p>Lance studied Keith again – he was in a suit, and looked royally uncomfortable, but he was smiling. “I missed you,” he said honestly.</p><p>“I missed you, too,” Keith said. “All of you.”</p><p>“How’s space?”</p><p>“Good,” Keith responded. “Busy. Lots of planets to liberate, and the travel takes ages, but we’re ‘training’ in all that free time – yeah. Busy. What about you guys?”</p><p>Lance smiled for a second, but his head was pulling a blank. What did he say to a boy that had spent the last few months saving the universe? ‘Oh, cool, I was moping around in bed because my almost-girlfriend died, and it was all my fault. You know, no biggie.’</p><p>Hunk almost immediately picked up on the silence, interjecting himself into the conversation. “We’ve been doing a lot of Voltron-related stuff – signing, motivational speeches, you know, the lot. Lance actually got called in to a children’s hospital for a visit a couple weeks ago.”</p><p>“Oh, wow,” Keith said. “That must have been so cool. I bet you were good with the kids.”</p><p>“Better than you would’ve been, grumpy-pants,” Lance chuckled. “But, yeah. It was nice.”</p><p>He looked over to Hunk, trying to convey all of his thanks into a single smile. Hunk’s eyes radiated warmth in response.</p><p>“What about you, Hunk? What’ve you been up to?”</p><p>“Oh – well I finally enrolled in culinary school, because I like mechanics, but also I can <em>afford </em>it now, so that’s going…”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Hunk and Keith had settled into trading stories, and after a couple, Lance found some excuse to slip away, rather than pretending to chuckle and be interested when the sick feeling in his stomach reminded him he had nothing to return. The crowd had only thickened – Lance was assuming dinner started soon, but he’d only just realized he’d left his phone in the car when he’d gone to pull it out as a crutch, only for it not to be in his pocket.</p><p>As he walked, he couldn’t help but think about Allura. (His mind always went to Allura.) Yes, this party wasn’t to mourn her, but… why not celebrate her memory? Or, rather, why ignore her completely? It was so unfair.</p><p>Had everybody forgotten?</p><p>He found himself in the vast kitchen, eyeing up the huge plates Shiro and Adam were going to serve, and pouring himself a large glass of water (taps, now, were weird, too – half the time he expected it to be a hose that always sprayed a little too harshly, the other half he prepared to purify himself – maybe even give a sample to Pidge, so they could test its chemical make-up and see if it was safe for humans.</p><p>But… no. Taps were just taps. Water was just water.</p><p>He’d spent half-a-dobosh searching for glasses, before he realized Shiro had organised his kitchen the exact same way the Castle’s Kitchen was organised (half courtesy of Hunk, half Coran’s insistence that they leave things where they were.) He mulled that over as he sipped from his drink, looking at the plastic-covered plates.</p><p>“Number three!”</p><p>Lance lowered the glass from his mouth, turning to see Coran grinning under his moustache. “Coran!” He said, putting the glass down and moving forwards to embrace the man. “I didn’t you know you were coming!”</p><p>“It was a surprise, my boy,” said Coran with a grin, patting Lance’s back several times in quick succession. “I thought you lot might’ve missed me, though.”</p><p>“We did!” Lance said. “It’s… weird, not being around you – all of you – every day, anymore.”</p><p>Coran pulled back, and although the smile remained, a crease had come to settle in-between his bushy eyebrows – one that had only grown more prominent over the deca-phoebs. “I agree,” he said, hands moving to Lance’s shoulders. “But we mustn’t fret! I’m back now.”</p><p>Lance nodded, eyes dropping to the copper-ish buttons on Coran’s blazer. It wasn’t a fashion Lance recognised – probably something Altean.</p><p>Coran was ranting something about Lance having gotten too skinny when Lance’s eyes began to tear up. To his surprise, it was the first time that night – his fear that this would happen had prevented him from coming to the many parties beforehand, but it had been expected. Except he hadn’t expected Coran to be the one to set him off.</p><p>“Oh, Lance,” Coran’s voice softened. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“I- I missed you,” he said shakily, words coming out weaker than he’d intended. “I missed you so much.”</p><p>Coran pulled him into a hug, and god forbid, Lance felt small in his embrace. The first tear trailed down his cheek, and he tried to hide it in the fancy Altean blazer. “I missed you too,” Coran was murmuring, “but I’m here now.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” Lance said, having to push the words so much that they ended up a half-shout. The back of his throat was getting sore, even though he was letting his tears fall. “Coran, I’m sorry.”</p><p>“No, no,” Coran carded a hand through Lance’s hair, and he couldn’t even bring himself to care. “I would never blame you.”</p><p>Lance sniffled, but the tears didn’t stop. They were coming embarrassingly fast, now – at this rate, Coran would have a darkened shoulder all evening.</p><p>Coran pulled out of the hug, hands on Lance’s shoulder and head ducking to meet his eyes. “Lance,” he said, “I’ll say it again, just in case you didn’t hear me. I don’t blame you for anything that happened. I never will. I love you, Lance.”</p><p>Lance’s face crumpled. “Okay,” he whispered.</p><p>“Okay?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Lance felt himself sinking into another hug (a very strange part of his brain that usually provided his comedic quips suggested he go for the other shoulder, so that at least the damp splotches matched.)</p><p>“I love you, too,” Lance said. “I love you.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>No more than ten doboshes later, everyone was being called for dinner, and Lance was wiping his tears with the aid of Coran’s Altean handkerchief (he’d insisgted that it was <em>not </em>a handkerchief, although it served exactly the same purpose, and looked exactly the same) as the kitchen was invaded with Adam and Shiro to cart the dishes into the dining room. Lance and Coran followed them, into the wide dining room.</p><p>A single long table, filled with people chatting. Seven seats near the top.</p><p>Seven seats. Lance walked with Coran, taking his seat, marked blue.</p><p>Across from him was an empty chair, marked pink. Of course.</p><p>How could Lance have ever thought that they’d forgotten?</p><p>Coran had taken the seat next to the pink (marked an orange that was exactly the older man’s hair colour.) He’d taken one look at the pink, and a smile that held far too much sadness for one person had passed across his face.</p><p>From besides him, Keith tapped the crook of his elbow. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Lance said, eyes moving back to the pink. He envisioned Allura – sitting in that musty-smelling Altean dress she’d worn to every Coalition meeting, smiling and making effortless conversation. “I will be.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Every Tuesday, Lance meets Pidge and Hunk for coffee. He used to dread the meetings – spending hours thinking up topics to talk about that had nothing to do with him, and yet falling into the trap of silence every single week. Now, however, he looked forwards to the meetings – full to the brim with stories of things he’d been doing.</p><p>He was a good listener – loved to hear about how Hunk graduated culinary school and waked straight into a job (he called it the most stressful thing he’d ever been a part of, but other then that, seemed to be loving it,) or about how Pidge finally got that promotion they wanted, and was working with their dad on brand new Garrison tech as well as teaching bratty teenagers.</p><p>He spoke about himself – his endeavours in interior design (because, come on, he <em>did </em>have an apartment, and that had been ugly for long enough) and his family visits. Mostly, though, he spoke about the places he went to talk about his experience as a Paladin – schools, universities, support groups, hospitals.</p><p>He shared photos (he’d long since ran out of film for his polaroid, which was falling apart anyway – now he actually used his phone) every week of the groups he’d met, the conversations he’d had about other paladins (apparently Pidge was a fan favourite!) And he’d laugh about everything.</p><p>Every Friday, now, Lance had Paladin dinners at Shiro’s house, with as many people as could make it. Adam cooked (sometimes he invited Hunk over to help, and sometimes he just ordered pizza) but mainly left them too it. Every Friday, they’d eat, and laugh, and reminisce.</p><p>Lance feels good. He still remembers the ache in his chest – the many memories sketched into his mind forever – and it never really goes away. But with every moment he spends looking for happiness, it becomes less crushing, and more… a reminder.</p><p>With every moment… he feels better.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>spanish translations (sorry if the spanish is a bit stiff - if you speak spanish, please feel free to correct me!!</p><p>hijo - my son.</p><p>¿Realmente lo crees? - you really think so?</p><p>Diviértete hoy. - Have fun today.</p><p>¡Los niños te amarán! - the kids will love you!</p><p>hasta luego - see you later</p><p>---</p><p>there we go!! damn, i really hope i got the vibes i was going for right with this fic.</p><p>if you feel like it, please leave a comment!! they make me immeasurably happy, and inspire me to write more!</p><p>and thank you so much for reading!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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